The Story of ‘No Scars, No Stories’

Chapter Two:

So, here I was with a new idea, a new concept and a new direction for my writing.  That’s when the other shoe dropped.  

If you’ve been following this blog you’ll know that almost a year ago I lost a good friend.  I’m not going to review and rehash all that went down last summer (you are welcome to read about it in my archives)  but what I will say is the direction of my writing turned again.  What surprised me was the breadth of the writing – from empowering to imploding.  

When I stopped to think about the phrase “no scars, no stories” it was easy to imagine all the horrible things that can happen to someone that can leave a scar.  Then I remembered all the fun that Michael had together over the course of his life.  I remembered my time in Ireland and the joy I felt in finding the exact guitar with the exact sound.  

Scars are formed for many reasons.  Maybe you got your scar from doing something you love and landing on your ass.  Maybe you got your scar from living thru pain and coming out the other side in a better place.  The thing about scars is they are only there to serve as a bookmark, our own little piece of living history.

 

It’s when we have the faith and the humility to share our stories that our scars heal. 

The Story of ‘No Scars, No Stories’

Chapter One:

When I started this project it was gong to be called, “Layin’ Down Roots”.  I had been trying to write a number of songs the last few years and many seemed to be dealing with my journey, my history, my future – and none of them were getting finished.

Then, one day my Ireland guitar fell over in it’s stand and broke… practically in half…at a show…in the middle of the first song.  

I was devastated.  I was beside myself.  I was a wreck.  

When I got home The Girlfriend and our friend, Kim, were there to console me.  I weeped and wailed and raged against the winds that blew – I would not be easily consoled.  Then Kim looked at my guitar and looked me and said, “Well, no scars, no stories.” 

[Short pause for stunned silence.]  And I knew she was right.

The guitar would be fixed and it would be stronger than before – though never quite the same.  And the scar that runs along the face of her headstock will be the reminder of that day (and to keep my guitar’s in their case when playing a windy show).